Rituals.

I want to speak and I want to scream and I want to have things to say. But I have nothing to say except the things I always say. I have no words but the same words, that speak of misery and sorrow and absence.

Everyday gets harder and I don't know when I'm going to give up. I don't know why I haven't already. I wish there was a better explanation for being the way I am. I wish there was more wrong with me, that things were harder for me, so I could spend less time defending myself. And even though no one ever asks, I still feel like I have to defend myself. Like they accuse me without saying anything. And so I spend all this time preparing answers for questions that never come. But I do that any way. Every conversation I ever had, I've already had once before. I run over everything in my mind. Once. Twice. A half dozen times. It gets exhausting. It's all exhausting. And I'm so very tired.